• Published 11th Mar 2015
  • 27,681 Views, 2,191 Comments

I Am Going To Save And/Or Destroy Equestria! - Bucking Nonsense



In an Equestria where Celestia and Luna have slain each other, a human is brought to Equestria in the body of King Sombra, in hopes that he might be able to save the kingdom from the fiends of Tartarus...

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Interlude: Today All Possibilities Are Illuminated

When I was born, I committed three terrible injustices against my father.

The first was that my birth caused my mother's death. She was of a weak constitution, and she knew that giving birth could easily be the end of her. She accepted that possibility, and went through with the pregnancy. Had the birth been an easier one, she might, potentially, have survived, but as with so much of my life, I ended up taking the hardest route, and my birthing was incredibly difficult. I was born hale and healthy, and the last thing my mother saw was me before she had passed.

The second was the fact that I was born a mare, rather than a stallion. My father is, or rather was, a proud knight of Equestria, seventh of his line to hold a title passed from father to son. My birth brought an end to that proud tradition. My father was heartbroken by my mother's passing, and swore he would never love another mare. He kept that vow to the end.

The third is that, instead of some petite, dainty, beautiful creature like my mother, I was born with a tall, powerful physique. I am not fat, or clumsy, or unsightly, no. I am not vain, but I have studied myself in the mirror many times growing up, and I will admit, my face is without flaw, my muscles are both firm and supple, I lack even a trace of fat upon my body, and in terms of grace, I could make a ballet dancer, an acrobat, or a gymnast turn green with envy. However, I am also taller than almost any stallion I have ever met. So tall, in fact, that I have been asked, more than once, to reveal my forehead, to assure others that I was not secretly an alicorn. My shoulders are in perfect proportion to my body, yet are wider than any stallion's I have ever laid eyes on. My intimidating physique has made it so that, even at an age of twenty-four, an age when most mares would have dropped three or more foals, I remain a virgin, so there is every possibility that my family line may end with me.

My name is Storm Cloud, currently the last of the Storm line. I am a pegasus with a lustrous black coat, a long, blonde mane, and bright yellow eyes. My mark is, naturally, a storm cloud, with three lightning bolts shooting down from it. I was among the first ten to join Sparkling Sunset in her quest to gather the one hundred and eight. And today... I am torn.

My father was not a harsh pony to me. In truth, he was very kind. When I expressed an interest in the knightly arts, rather than more... maidenly pursuits, he did not oppose me. Rather, he hired tutors from across Equestria to teach me how to fight, how to use weapons, and even how to fly in heavy armor, although in my case, my heavy is most other ponies' 'impossible'. At my eighteenth year, I could out-fly, out-fight, and out-maneuver any one of my tutors, or all of them at once if need be. I asked, when I came of age, for my father's endorsement into the ranks of knighthood. I had dreams of being the first mare to earn such a title, so that my father's name, and our knightly traditions, could live on. My father endorsed me wholeheartedly.

And I was immediately shot down when I applied for a position in one of the knightly orders. And the next, and the next. I applied to every order of knighthood, and none would accept me. All of them refused me, from the greatest to the smallest. Some of them were polite enough to allow me to hear the reason why from their own lips. Others just sent a letter telling me to not even bother showing up. Regardless of their courtesy or rudeness, the answer was always the same.

You're a mare. Mares cannot be knights. End of story.

When I had exhausted every possible option, my father and I decided on a desperate plan: I would enter the royal tourney the next year, in my father's armor, and compete. I would enter every contest, and with my skill in the knightly arts, I would win, and win, and win again. Then, when I was given all of the available awards for my merit by the princesses themselves, I would whip off my helm, announce my name and gender to all the world, and show all of them that, regardless of being a mare, I was more a knight than any ten stallions ever born. If they would deny me then, they would have to explain to the princesses why a mare better than any competitor on the field was unworthy of being a knight. I sincerely doubted that they could come up with a reason for my further exclusion that would not gravely offend the two great mares who rule Equestria.

However, before that plan could come to fruition, Celestia and Luna died. The proud knights of Equestria rode out with Commander Hurricane to face the fiends, and were annihilated. The knightly orders were beaten, broken, and what was left of them was scattered to the four winds. There are no more knights in Equestria. And thus, my first great dream was thwarted: I would never be able to become a knight.

My father, being a knight, naturally rode off with his brothers in arms. He was on the vanguard, the first to charge the fiends' ranks. I wish I could tell you that he died nobly, that he had at least managed to score a single blow against his foes. Instead, he was snatched out of the air by the Raptorians, who first pulled out his pinions, the vital flight feathers of a pegasai's wings, then dragged him so high up that survival would be impossible if he dropped. And then... one grabbed his shoulders, the other two grabbed one hind leg each, and they pulled in opposite directions. My father's screams, it is said, were heard for miles as, while giggling with manic glee, the Raptorians slowly ripped him in half. Not because his shrieks would unnerve the Equestrian forces, although I am certain they did. The Raptorians only did it because they thought it would be funny. Within the first minute of that battle, my father was crippled, mortally wounded, and stripped of any hope for a dignified death worthy of a knight of his valor and lineage. At the end of the sixth minute, and the battle's closure, his bleeding, broken, still-shrieking body was dropped on the fleeing forces. The force of his impact, combined with the damage already done, ensured that there would not be enough left intact of his remains to allow any manner of dignified burial, even if his body could have been retrieved...

I know my limits: The Raptorians are monsters, beasts stronger and more ferocious than any pony, or even any ten ponies put together. Even on my best day, and their worst, I could never face them and hope to win. Thus, my second great dream is also impossible: I cannot avenge my father's death.

And today, I have a third great dream, another impossible one, although I am embarrassed to admit it.

While no stallion has ever approached me with romantic intent, I have yet to find a stallion who could measure up to my father, or could stir any longing within my heart. Perhaps it is only hero worship, but I have never met a stallion who could match my father in strength, intellect, or courage. My father was a paragon of knighthood, and my ancestors were likewise great stallions. How could I ever dilute my proud bloodline with anything less than a stallion who was a paragon amongst paragons?

And yet, with my father gone, and with my contribution to the raising of King Sombra having been completed, I will need to produce an heir, if for no other reason than because, if I should fall in the days to come, either in battle, to illness, or just a random accident, there has to be somepony who can carry on the family name.

And now, this morning, I have found that stallion.

King Sombra, this very morning, has ascended to alicorndom, having proven himself a stallion worthy of the vast power of the stars. He was courageous enough to fight a fiend in one-on-one combat, clever enough to devise a plan that allowed him to achieve victory, and strong enough to pull a star from the heavens and make it one with himself. If ever there was a stallion worthy of sharing my bloodline, it is him.

It is funny, it took that accidental glamor of his to make me see it, but even now that it is gone, I cannot imagine of a better stallion to father my foals. The fact that, even without that glamor, he is handsome enough to make parts of myself I had never truly acknowledged before tremble with need for him, is only icing on the cake. I want him. I want him now and every day and night from today 'til the end of time...

And yet, how could he ever choose me over any of the mares here? Why would he choose a tall weed when he has veritable bouquet of roses to choose from?

"What's got you down, Cloudy?"

I looked to my right, and saw my friend, Babbling Brook, cheerfully munching upon her breakfast. An earth pony with a bright blue and often unruly mane, and a brownish coat, her bright blue eyes gazed at me in curiosity. Almost every mare here avoided me, due to my intimidating stature. Brook, on the other hoof, sought me out the first day she joined our ranks, and we've been inseperabe ever since. I am a mare of few words. Brook babbles almost constantly. However, if one were to assume that, just because she likes to talk, there's anything other than brains between those two ears of hers, they would be sorely mistaken: She's intensely observant, deviously clever, and has a near photographic memory.

She also alternates her nicknames for me: She calls me Stormy when I'm angry or upset, or Cloudy when I'm down. The fact that she has never once called me the wrong nickname, in spite of my usually stoic expression, speaks volumes in regards to just how observant she is.

I sighed, and I said, "King Sombra has offered each of us a favor in exchange for our role in reviving him. But only one, and if we wish for more, then we must work hard to earn his favor once again." I put my head in my hooves, and I admitted, "I am torn between three desires. I wish to become a knight. I wish to be the one who slays the Raptorians. And I wish..." Against my will, my eyes momentarily darted over to where the king was dining with Discord, Sparkling Sunset, Ladyhawke, and the fluffy one.

Brook, as observant as ever, caught it, and asked, "Oh, so you want a piece of that action?" She giggled, and said, "Get in line."

With a truly despondent sigh, I admitted, "That's the problem: I'd be the last in that line, if I was even allowed to take part in it. Sombra has more than enough fair maidens to warm his bed, and could have half the mares here with just a wink and a gesture towards the general direction of the royal bedchambers, or just a semi-private alcove, given how he looks now. Meanwhile, I'm a freakish brute of a mare: I'm as tall as he is, and almost as broad, and I know nothing of... well, I'm not the most feminine of mares..."

"So you're afraid that you'll be overlooked?" The earth pony giggled and said, "That would be a first, wouldn't it?"

In spite of myself, I laughed as well. It would be a first: I usually stand out in a crowd. All my life, I had never truly wished that I was some fair flower of a mare, even if it would have made some things in my life easier. I had, for the most part, been content with what I was. And yet now, my heart and... other parts were being flooded with unfamiliar feelings, feelings that I could never have returned because of what I was...

"I have a solution," Brook proclaimed, then whipped a sheet of paper, a quill, and an ink pot from her mane. I often wondered just how much she had stored in that wild, unruly tangle, but after seeing some of the things that she had withdrawn, I knew that she had to have neck muscles to rival my own. She quickly scribbled down a note, passed it to me, and said, "You just need to have him agree to everything on this slip of paper."

I read the note quickly.

Item 1: I want to be a knight. Not a fake kind of knight in title only, but a real, honest to goodness knight in shining armor that goes out and defends the weak and undoes the wicked.

Item 2: I want to avenge my father's death. I want to personally be the one who slays all three of the Raptorians. I will not settle for vengeance by proxy, I want all three of them dead, and I want to be the one who does the deed. My honor demands nothing less.

Item 3: I want King Sombra to take my virginity and impregnate me. And I want him to keep impregnating me as many times as I want or need to be. Seriously, I'm twenty-four, still a virgin, and I NEEEEEEEED IT!!! Please! Plow me like a cornfield! Pound me like a tent peg!! Impale me with your mighty spear!!! MAKE SWEET, SWEET LOVE TO ME!!! ALL!!! NIGHT!!!! LONG!!!!!!

I was blushing bright red at the last one. Had any other mare written that and told me to take to King Sombra, then I would have been furious beyond words, but Brook was my best friend. My only friend, really. I knew it was partly in fun, and I did love her sense of humor dearly. I hesitated, and then took the note. I hated how desperate it sounded, but I will admit that, joke or not, it was the honest truth...

Author's Note:

Just so you'll know? In the original timeline, there would have been time enough for the tourney to take place, and her plan would have worked: She'd have whooped the collective backsides of every knight there, revealed herself as a mare, and shamed the flower of Equestrian knighthood into admitting that she was worthy of being a knight. The princesses would have not only endorsed her entry into knighthood, but would have made her the knight-commander of her own order, one where anyone, regardless of species, gender, or anything else, could join.

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